خاطرات آزاده

Saturday, August 26, 2006

آخر شب روی صندلی خسته می‌نشینم و فکر می‌کنم از امروز گذشته چه مانده است؟ .... امروز هم گذشت،

بی انکه صدایم کنی... باز هم همان حکایت همیشگی....

Anonymous said...: you must be one of those Iranians who have recently moved out. it's like you used to be a tree, and your roots grew deep inside the earth.
or like a pair of old shoes, how your feet used to be comfortable in them.
and now you are pulled out of that earth and you're kept hanging some place far far away.
miles'n miles of empty space between you and the place you were comfortable in. your feet are in a pair of brand new shoes.you miss every molecule of that place, 12,000 miles away.
something doesn't feel right,
streets are clean, cars are new, wheather is good, but something is missing. like a part of your heart is cut out and taken away.
and there are this people around you, Listen! they are saying I don't care about you I wanna enjoy myself, you are not welcome if you're sad, smile, smile, smile dammit, even if it is fake, just don't give me any hard time, I don't want to know, sad? that's your problem, pass the martini.

your smile reminds one of the pictures on the cover of magazines.; 30 August, 2006 23:58